


An Attempted Rescue

by thetwistedcelestials



Series: Touch [6]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-22
Updated: 2013-01-22
Packaged: 2017-11-26 11:07:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,268
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/649879
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thetwistedcelestials/pseuds/thetwistedcelestials
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stile's casual disregard for Derek's life in season 1's 'Formality' seemed a bit out-of-character.  Here's one explanation of what might he might have been thinking.</p>
            </blockquote>





	An Attempted Rescue

**Author's Note:**

> Most of the dialog in this piece was directly lifted from the 'Formality' episode.

Stiles watched as his best friend frantically searched for the missing phone.

"Call it again."

"It's not here. So you lost your phone. Why don't you just get a new one?”

"I can't afford a new one. We need Derek. I can't do this alone. We have to find Derek."

_Great, I was hoping that wasn’t what you were thinking._ "Well, A, you're not alone. You have me! And B, didn't you say Derek walked into gunfire? He sounds pretty dead."

"They're going to use Derek to get to the Alpha. They're not going to kill him."

"Okay, so just…let them do what they're planning. They use Derek to get Peter. Problem solved.” _And without you sticking your neck into even more danger._

"Not if Peter is using Allison to find Derek. I can't protect her on my own. Which means, we need to find Derek first! Look, would you please just help me?"

_That’s what I’m trying to do, except you keep insisting on GETTING YOURSELF KILLED_ is what Stiles doesn’t yell at his best friend. Instead, he says, "Dude, You probably lost it when you two were fighting. You remember that? When he was trying to kill you? After you interrupted him from trying to kill Jackson. Are you starting to see a pattern of violent behavior here?"

"He wasn't going to kill anyone. And I'm not letting him die."

Stiles resisted the urge to roll his eyes again. He had a good feeling that he knew where Scott’s phone was, but he wasn’t going to let Scott put himself into danger, again. Sighing internally, he reviewed his preparations for the evening. "Could you at least _think_ about letting him die? For me?”

Scott paused his search, his eyes looking far away. “What?” Stiles asked, frustrated.

"My mom just got home from work."

"Is she okay"

Scott shakes his head.

"What's she doing?"

"Crying."

_Okay, well maybe you should do something about that and let me worry about our other resident werewolf._

\--

The bald man left the tunnel, right on time. Stiles sighed in relief, as he cursed his own recklessness. At least the man seemed to be following his schedule, which meant there was at least half an hour for Stiles to find Derek and get him out. The teen gave the hunter another five minutes, before taking a deep breath and entering the tunnel.

A musty, dank smell hit his nose immediately. A shiver ran down his back. In the fading light, it seemed very much like a classic dungeon. Stiles expected a hunter to jump out at any moment. Taking another steadying breath, he quickly hurried down the dark passage.

He stumbled over something, making a loud clattering. Cursing silently, he leaned against the wall and reached in his bag for a flashlight. He had stumbled over a rusted kettle. _Really? What the heck? Why is there a freaking_ kettle _in the middle of this creepy tunnel of horrors? Gah!_

Pushing off the wall, Stiles continued down the tunnel, keeping one hand on the wall to help him find his way. Thankfully, the tunnel didn’t have any branches until he reached a T-intersection, with a large metal door at the end. As he approached the door, he could hear a familiar growl and chains rattling. 

Bingo.

Sliding open the door, he couldn’t help but gasp at the sight. Derek was hanging by his wrists on a nasty, medieval-looking rack. Sweat and old blood stained his chest, with multicolored bruises stark against his skin. A bright light was shining on his face, with an odd set of wires attached to his side. What were they doing to him? And why hadn’t the bruises healed yet? Was Derek so bad off that he couldn’t even heal anymore?

“…Stiles?”

The hoarse whisper broke Stiles out of his reverie. Dropping his bag with a clang, Stiles rushed over to Derek. “Oh. My. God. Derek! Are you…how do I get you out of these shackles? Is there a key? Or, like a switch or something? I don’t think there’s anyone else here, is there?” His hands fluttered gently across the werewolf’s face, wincing at the coolness of the skin and Derek’s flinch.

Derek coughed, shaking his head as though to clear it. “Stiles, what the hell are you doing here?” the werewolf asked as Stiles opened his bag and pulled out his tools.

Stiles spared a glance at Derek, before turning his attention to the shackles. The bolt cutters he had brought weren’t doing the trick. He explained as he continued his attempts to pry the shackles off. “You took Scott’s phone. Urgh. And I tracked you with the GPS. Argh! Open, damn it! So I came to get you out. Freakin-!” The bolt cutters slipped off the shackles again.

“Stiles…where’s Scott?” Derek panted.

“I…I didn’t tell him. I came by myself.”

“What?! Stiles wh-“

Stiles cut him off. “Scott is already in too much danger. The hunters probably aren’t going to hurt a human.” _If they ask questions before shooting…_

“Stiles, these monsters are the type to shoot first, ask questions later.” Derek growled.

Stiles grunted. Derek had practically read his mind. “Well, at least that would give my da-…the sheriff a reason to look more closely at everything, wouldn’t it?” Stiles tried to suppress a grimace. He knew this was a stupid risk. But Scott was right. They needed Derek. And he _really_ didn’t want to think about what would happen to his father. Who would check his fry habit? Or make sure he slept? Who would take care of him? But Stiles had a feeling he had a better chance of talking his way out a situation. Definitely better chances compared to a teen werewolf. Damn, he couldn’t find any way to get Derek out of the rack. There had to be a way. They were running of time.

Derek tilted his head. The groan of the gate faintly came down the tunnel. “Stiles! He’s coming back! You have to get out of here!”

“Freakin…” Stiles eyes went wide. I still have a few minutes, but…I don’t think this is going to work. Stiles grimaced. “I’m not leaving you here.”

Derek snarled at him. “You can’t save anyone by being a hero here, Stiles. Get out of here. Go down the tunnel; there’s a side room you can use to hide. Wait until I give you a signal to get the hell out of here.”

Stiles glared at the werewolf. He knew it was the best plan, but it made his stomach roil. Those bruises. And those wires, going to what looked like a car battery. He practically snarled himself. _Damn it…_

Stiles growled again in frustration. He had maybe two minutes to get out. He gave the wires another look. Grabbing his bolt cutters, he cut two of the wires and tucked them behind the others. At least that might break the circuit, keep them from using whatever it was. He hoped. “Derek…”

“Go!”

Stiles pressed his forehead against Derek’s, looking deep into his hazel eyes. “We are coming back here for you. We are not leaving you like this. Just…just hang on, okay Derek?” Stiles needed Derek to answer, to say he understood they weren’t abandoning him, to just _be okay_.

Derek breathed heavily, staring back before giving him a sharp nod. “Go. Now. Hide!”

With one last squeeze to the werewolf’s shoulder, Stiles ran out of the room, a suspicious burning in his eyes. They _were_ going to save Derek. He couldn’t consider the alternatives.


End file.
